Lenny Doesn't Live Here Anymore

I remember where I was the day that Lenny Zakim died. It was a Thursday, and I was driving home from work, and when the news came over the radio that he had lost his battle with cancer, I remember screaming out "No!" So many of us had admired Lenny. He was the kind of guy who loved a challenge; and no matter how bad a situation might seem, he would usually find a way to turn things around. You didn't want to count Lenny out. You didn't want to bet against him. So, when we heard he had cancer, we kept hoping that somehow he'd turn this around too. I mean, if anyone could beat cancer, it was Lenny. But sad to say, there was no happy ending this time. Lenny was only 46 when he died on December 2, 1999. I still miss him. 

But in his short life, he did some remarkable things. In his obit, which ran in newspapers nationwide, the headline often read "Leonard Zakim, 46; Promoted Racial Unity and Tolerance." That was an understatement. Lenny came to Boston from Jersey. Back when he got here in the late 1970s, Boston had been going through periods of racial and religious tensions. He was hired by the Anti-Defamation League in 1979 as its New England Director for Civil Rights (he would later rise to be the organization's Executive Director), and he went to work trying to bring people together. That was his superpower-- the ability to bring together folks who were initially suspicious or mistrusting and get them to collaborate to make Boston a better place to live.

He started an annual Black-Jewish Passover seder, that brought together community members from Boston's Black and Jewish communities; it grew in popularity and other cities emulated it. He brought together faith leaders from Catholic and Protestant traditions and worked with them to tackle antisemitism. He worked hard to improve Catholic-Jewish relations in Boston: in fact, his efforts were so successful, and so inspirational, that he was awarded the Order of St. Gregory by Pope John Paul II (if I'm not mistaken, Lenny was the first Jew ever given this medal). And while Lenny's political views leaned Democratic, he had friends who were conservative Republicans, because that's how Lenny was. In fact, when he died, his funeral was attended by thousands, from just about every walk of life.

Sometimes, when I'm driving home, I still think about Lenny and I wonder what he would make of our hateful and contentious politics, the refusal of each side to see the humanity in the other, the willingness of far too many to insult and mock and demonize, rather than getting together to tackle the problems our society still has. But then, it's a matter of leadership, isn't it? Lenny was a leader. He found ways to bring people together. Surely, we need someone like that, now more than ever. But sad to say, Lenny is gone, and few in leadership positions seem committed to doing what he did. In Boston, they named a bridge after him, because after all, he was all about building bridges. And each time I drive across it, that's what I miss the most: leaders who want to turn down the volume of our angry discourse and give people a chance to collaborate. Leaders who want to promote understanding and tolerance, rather than mistrust and outrage. Leaders who want to build bridges... like Lenny did.